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Earlier this month, a friend from university invited me to celebrate Eid Mubarak at his mosque in Athlone. All the preparation and teaching, which included my own Google research, did not prepare me enough for what was to come.
Before I get into that, let me provide some context.
I am a self-identifying feminist and have a quirky and clever comeback for any sexist, misogynistic, racist or stupid comment that comes my way. I will readily start an argument wherever and whenever in defence of equality and justice. So you’ll imagine my surprise at the invitation to mosque.
Yes, a mosque. A mosque, where I would need to wear a hijab, cover my entire body and, as a woman, have to pray elsewhere away from my friend and the men.
I really like my friend and decided to give mosque a chance. As a social scientist, I also wanted have the experience before I could form a view upon which to base all future observations and views on the issue.
In any case, upon arrival at the mosque, I was asked to follow the women to a side entrance, which led the women upstairs to where they prayed. The men went through the main entrance into the main hall. I took off my shoes, did the ablutions which my friend had taught me, and then preceded to offer salat. My friend, a man, went inside via another entrance. Yes, he disappeared for the entire time I was upstairs.
After we had spent time doing the prayers, we listened to the Kkhutbah. Then it was time to mingle and wish each other a happy Eid.
As the only new member there, you can imagine my position. Everyone else knew each other. I became the person everyone wanted to talk to. Everyone was incredibly pleasant and welcoming. I received numerous invites to visit and learn more about the religion.
As a dedicated feminist my initial thoughts and default response was to question and rebel against the separation in places of worship, the role of women in the mosque and, more broadly, in Islam and Muslim households. For a change, I made the decision to suspend my beliefs so that I can actually be present in the moment and allow an open mindedness that often is blinkered by my hard and fast position on issues.
I accepted the invitation to visit mosque again. I’ve since been to three other Jum’ah, Friday prayer or day of assembly for the Muslim community.
During these visits, I’ve met some wonderful women who are my definition of an intersectional feminist practitioner. They are defiant and outspoken. Many are career women and seriously committed to human rights. They were born into their religion and chose to stay in it, but actively redefine the role and position of women and girls in the Muslim community.
It may also be that the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community has international influences and is therefore more liberal. Spending time with these ladies has reminded me that religion is still a contested site for women, yet the women I have met are not the submissive, docile and voiceless women we imagine when our Islamophobia-tinted feminist lenses won’t allow us the opportunity to see beyond the burqa, niqab and hijab.
Often, the feminist community defines women’s liberation and equality in Eurocentric terms and does not take into account the nuances of faith, culture, class and race and how these intersect with feminist praxis.
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
Before I get into that, let me provide some context.
I am a self-identifying feminist and have a quirky and clever comeback for any sexist, misogynistic, racist or stupid comment that comes my way. I will readily start an argument wherever and whenever in defence of equality and justice. So you’ll imagine my surprise at the invitation to mosque.
Yes, a mosque. A mosque, where I would need to wear a hijab, cover my entire body and, as a woman, have to pray elsewhere away from my friend and the men.
I really like my friend and decided to give mosque a chance. As a social scientist, I also wanted have the experience before I could form a view upon which to base all future observations and views on the issue.
In any case, upon arrival at the mosque, I was asked to follow the women to a side entrance, which led the women upstairs to where they prayed. The men went through the main entrance into the main hall. I took off my shoes, did the ablutions which my friend had taught me, and then preceded to offer salat. My friend, a man, went inside via another entrance. Yes, he disappeared for the entire time I was upstairs.
After we had spent time doing the prayers, we listened to the Kkhutbah. Then it was time to mingle and wish each other a happy Eid.
As the only new member there, you can imagine my position. Everyone else knew each other. I became the person everyone wanted to talk to. Everyone was incredibly pleasant and welcoming. I received numerous invites to visit and learn more about the religion.
As a dedicated feminist my initial thoughts and default response was to question and rebel against the separation in places of worship, the role of women in the mosque and, more broadly, in Islam and Muslim households. For a change, I made the decision to suspend my beliefs so that I can actually be present in the moment and allow an open mindedness that often is blinkered by my hard and fast position on issues.
I accepted the invitation to visit mosque again. I’ve since been to three other Jum’ah, Friday prayer or day of assembly for the Muslim community.
During these visits, I’ve met some wonderful women who are my definition of an intersectional feminist practitioner. They are defiant and outspoken. Many are career women and seriously committed to human rights. They were born into their religion and chose to stay in it, but actively redefine the role and position of women and girls in the Muslim community.
It may also be that the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community has international influences and is therefore more liberal. Spending time with these ladies has reminded me that religion is still a contested site for women, yet the women I have met are not the submissive, docile and voiceless women we imagine when our Islamophobia-tinted feminist lenses won’t allow us the opportunity to see beyond the burqa, niqab and hijab.
Often, the feminist community defines women’s liberation and equality in Eurocentric terms and does not take into account the nuances of faith, culture, class and race and how these intersect with feminist praxis.
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
